House was on fire
The call came mid Saturday morning, our Grandparents’ house was on fire.
Daddy, Momma, and us five kids loaded up in the car and headed out for the 20 minute drive to Fultondale. I remember even as a young teenager, praying it wasn’t so, and if so, it would be minor.
As we drove up the hill to the house, our worse fears were confirmed—–the house had burned to the ground. Nothing was saved, it was a soldering heap. All the mementos of my Grandparents’ lives were gone in the space of thirty minutes.
And who do we blame!!!!!!——-THE HONEY BEES!!!!!!!!
That morning, my Granddaddy had gone out to his honey bee hives, collected the honey, had come in and put wax on the stove to melt. Unfortunately, he left the kitchen and forgot about what he had left on the stove.
Even to this day, I remember fondly the house and all the good times of visiting as well as spending a week during the summer going to the local Baptist church’s singing school.
In my mind I walk through the rooms
In my mind, I walk through the front door, remembering the aroma, going through each room and remembering the furniture—-the antique dining room table with sideboard, the two refrigerators they always had, the piano, the added on bathroom (and yes, I remember the outhouse when I was much younger), the old large closet with the musty smell, filled with old clothes and such. Later, I learned included in these clothes, were the wedding dress of my Grandmother and other period clothing.
My Grandparents are now gone, but I wish I had been more interested in my genealogy. Dad said that Grandma could have told me just about anything I needed or wanted to know. She was the go-to person on knowledge concerning family, past and present.
I now encourage my kids and extended family to ask questions, and to understand that to know the future, we need to explore our past.
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